


Differences Aside Next Generation

by kyliEisMC2



Series: Differences Aside [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Post-Hobbit, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2020-12-27 01:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21110516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyliEisMC2/pseuds/kyliEisMC2
Summary: Fili and Torvi had a long and difficult journey before they were finally able to come together. Now as they rule Erebor they have become established in their reign and relationship. However their children have not.Tarbin is the son of Fili's once enemy but still ever rival. Since he was a young boy, he has always been drawn to Princess Sylvi. Unfortunatly, Sylvi does not seem to feel the same way. Too preoccupied with becoming a shield maiden, it is a long journey before she will acknowledge and even longer before she will accept his feelings. But Tarbin is determined to be patient, not wanting to get in the way of her dreams he patiently waits and watches.(A short continuation from Differences Aside)





	1. The Hair Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, if you all came her from differences aside I hope you will enjoy this short story. It will be a simple story of one shots of how Fili and Torvi's daughter came to fall in love with Tarbin, Ferin's son.

He loved her eyes. People always said they were exactly like Queen Torvi's but Tarbin had never shared that belief. While the shade and shape were the same, Tarbin saw the difference in what shone through. Queen Torvi held strength and power in her stare. There was knowledge of certainty that had been earned through experience and study. It was awe inspiring to look upon even for a young dwarf such as himself. But it was her daughters gaze that Tarbin found himself admiring more often.

Princess Sylvi held a certain hunger in her eyes. A starving hunger that seemed to never become satiated. She craved knowledge. She craved adventure. Anything that could offer her such things, she drank up. Every opportunity to gain more she took it greedily. And if life did not offer such things, she sought them out.

He was not sure when it happened exactly in the last few years but Tarbin was convinced he had fallen in love with her. Tarbin was not so naive to not know this was a silly idea and perhaps an exaggeration. He knew he was young, and she was even younger. He was only thirteen years of age, and she was nearly eleven. Both of them were far from ever entertaining such ideas of love, courtship, and marriage.

It would be many more years before he would ever be able to act on such feelings. In the years to come, he would change and she would change. But there was something that he knew would never change and that was his feelings for Sylvi. He was not sure how or why he knew this, but he did.

He had grown up listening to the whimsical romance of finding one's One from his parents. He had also heard the rendition of the King and Queen's tale of romance several times as well through songs at celebrations, from his best friend who happened to be the prince, and even once from Queen Torvi herself on nights that he stayed over at Vali's home. With each encounter and description of what it was like to find one's One, Tarbin became more and more convinced that he had found his One. It just seemed that Sylvi had not had such an epiphany herself. And he was okay with that. He could wait. He would wait.

However, that did not necessarily mean he was willing to let others get in the way.

Tarbin watched Abelard and Sylvi as they bent over a book. Abelard was pointing to a map as he explained a certain event while Sylvi listened with eager eyes and open ears as she absorbed the information he was feeding her. As she bent over the table to get a better look at the page, a piece of hair fell into her face.

It was always falling into her face.

And he loved it.

The golden locks always contrasted wonderfully with the tan skin she earned during the months of summer as she spent searching for adventures all over the mountainside. Everytime it happened, it gave him an excuse to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. Giving him an opportunity to feel the softness of her hair. It was thick but still smooth and soft like soft feathers.

But as much as much as he loved the excuse to touch her hair, he was not the only one who did such things. Too often he had seen others do this same action of softly tucking her hair back into place. And while perhaps they were innocent gestures of trying to aid her, Tarbin knew that one day this will change.

While she took after her father more, Sylvi possessed enough features of her mother that in several more years, she would blossom into a beautiful young woman that would be just as equal in her mother's own beauty.

Tarbin dreaded when this day would come. For it would be then that she would catch the eyes of others and once she had done that, Tarbin knew they too would take advantage of the opportunity just as he did. And this would be unacceptable. He was willing to wait until they were older and mature to make his intentions clear, but he could not risk someone else catching her eye before he could first make an attempt.

* * *

He meandered through the marketplace, stopping at the small shops of tinkers, toymakers, and other various merchants. Sylvi's birthday was coming up and he had yet to find a gift. Let alone the perfect gift. He knew she would not care if he gifted her with anything, which made it all the more important that he find the perfect gift. A gift that she could cherish. A gift that she would always remember him by.

He casually strode past a jeweler's stall, giving it a glance over with no real expectancy of it containing anything he was looking for. Sylvi was not one for finery. She was a princess and she had access to plenty of wondrous pieces of the trade. But she did not have an interest in them. She never had been, nor did he ever see her becoming one who would treasure jewels and precious metals.

Yet, as Tarbin caught sight of a golden piece on display, he suddenly came to a stop and approached the counter. It was molded into a rectangle with the traditional geometric designs of Erebor. Onyx stone was inlaid into the groves and spaces of the design. The black stone shone brightly in the light, giving it luster without diminishing the integrity of its dark color. Immediately, he knew this was a piece she would treasure. At least, he hoped she would.

Tarbin let his fingers slowly graze the hair clip before he lifted it from the silky tablecloth it was being displayed on. He thought about the many times he had watched her aggravatedly brush her hair from her face when sparring or doing anything that she truly loved. She had once threatened to cut it off to which he was grateful she was convinced from doing. He loved her long locks and he hated the thought of them being gone.

His dark eyes that matched the stones that adorned the hair piece moved up when he heard the approach of the shopkeeper. He was a skinny dwarf with a peppered beard. His eyes shone with glee as he recognized the boy standing at his stall and considering his merchandise.

"Looking for anything in particular lad?" The shopkeeper asked. "The little princess' birthday is in a few days, I have quite a collection that would be fit for a young lady of her status."

Tarbin lifted the simple hair clip. "I would like this," he said.

The man looked at it, a small frown pulling his lips for a moment. "You sure?" he asked hesitantly.

Tarbin nodded and held the hair clip out more for the man to take and wrap for him. The shopkeeper did his best to hide his disappointment but took the piece regardless and wrapped it in a square of silk cloth before slipping it into a small velvet bag. Tarbin, passed over several gold coins that exceeded the value then without waiting for change, walked away, a content smile pulling at his young face.

* * *

Most children present were closer to Sylvi's age with three exceptions. The first being Vali who of course was there because he was her older brother. Then there was himself, to which he was certain that the only reason why he was present was because Vali was his friend and his mother was good friends with Queen Torvi. The third and oldest of them was, to his dismay, Abelard. It was not necessarily Abelard's presence that had him in a bad mood, in fact he and Vali were quite good friends with him. He was older by a year and several months but he tended to have a hard time befriending those of his own age. He had a handsome face and was highly intelligent. But his mannerisms were...unique.

Despite this, Vali and himself found themselves befriending him since they had started their school years. However, there were certain things that put a strain on their friendship. Sylvi was one of them. Because of Abelard's unlimited resourceful mind, he was always there to tell her wild stories of adventure to which she would dream about. He fueled her imagination that gave her eyes the eagerness that they always possessed.

So it was by her personal invitation that he was currently present. And despite the fact that Abelard spent most of his time in a corner with Tarbin and Vali as they watched the younger ones play their games they claimed to be too old for, Tarbin could not help but hold it against him that Sylvi liked him more than himself. Or in more accurate terms, liked him at all.

It was a fact, universally known, that his father, Ferin, and King Fili were enemies. Despite the many shared family dinners, the laughs and jokes they shared, and the close work that they did to ensure the safety of the kingdom, King Fili and his father always managed to compete against each other. While their strange friendship of hatred was innocent enough, it did not stop them from getting their children involved.

On many occasions Tarbin and Vali had been pitted against each other with dueling swords to which Tarbin always won. Then there were the academics, each subject going to one or the other in victory. One time, when they were very young, Tarbin could have sworn that they had an argument over which son would get his beard in first. King Fili had sworn he had found a hair on Vali's chin just the other day. Tarbin had only just turned nine at the time, meaning Vali was only eight years old. It never bothered him, the competitive nature. If anything he was grateful for it because it had led to his and Vali's founded friendship.

Unfortunately, there was one side effect that did bother him. King Fili did not like him. He was never outwardly distasteful to him, but Tarbin could see the disapproval in his eyes. Everytime he bested Vali in a duel or got a higher mark in his history lessons, King Fili's dislike seemed to grow. And that dislike had seemed to rub off onto his daughter as well.

* * *

He had waited until after the party to give her his present. After all of her friends had left and the majority of the party was cleaned up, he found her in a secluded hallway just as she was about to make a second trip of hauling her presents up to her room.

She was skipping down the hall, her curls bouncing with every stride as she happily hummed to herself. The moment she spotted him, waiting for her in front of the door that her party had been held, she came up short. Looking at him as she turned her head to the side, she gave him a sidelong stare, her green eyes filled with curious suspicion. With cautious steps, Sylvi slowly closed the distance between them. Then, just as she moved to side step him to get to the doorway, Tarbin stepped in her way. With her way blocked, Sylvi looked up at him with a hard glare that quickly disappeared when he shoved the velvet bag into her face.

"Here," he said with a bored tone.

Sylvi blinked several times as she stared at the bag being held in front of her, her eyes wide and face full of perplexity. When she made no move to take it from him, Tarbin let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed her hand. She stiffened at his touch, causing Tarbin to pause for a moment before continuing to lift her hand. Twisting it so it lay open with her palm up, Tarbin placed the bag in her hand and instantly let go.

Shoving his now empty hands into his pockets as he looked at her expectantly. "Well open it," he instructed when she continued to stand with her hand poised mid air as she stared at the velvet container.

She startled slightly before glancing up at him. "You did not have to get me anything," she said in a strange tone.

Tarbin just rolled his eyes and nodded to the present in her hand. "It's not a big deal, just open it."

With slow, deliberate movements that were not used on her earlier presents, which were ripped and torn open with excited eyes, Sylvi slowly pulled the draw strings and slid the silk square from the bag. Tarbin watched as she glanced once up at him and noticed the intrigue that he saw within those green orbs. Already he was proud of himself for igniting that which he most loved about her.

Her small hands which were already covered in thin white scars from years of scraps and cuts from her adventurous habits, delicately unfolded the square of smooth fabric to reveal the golden hair piece that rested within. With bated breath, Tarbin watched her closely. His heart hammered against his chest as he tried to determine if she liked the gift or not. A single finger reached out and traced the lines of the designs then slowly, Sylvi stroked the onyx stone. A small ghost of a smile drew across her lips as she stared down at it.

"It's lovely," she said in a quiet voice then looked up at him.

While she had been looking down at the gift, a strand of hair that had been tucked behind her hair hand fallen free. Now, as she looked at him, the same strand of hair tickled her cheek and drew across her eyes. Tarbin could not resist the temptation as he reached out and picked the golden strands and rubbed them between his fingers. Sylvi stood still, her chest ceasing its movement as she held her breath and stared at him, her eyes transfixed on him.

"It's to keep this from happening," he said. As well as keeping others from finding the need to touch you, he added mentally.

"Here," he said, plucking the the gold piece from her hand and circling around her.

With gentle, but clumsy fingers, he lightly collected her hair. He combed it lightly until he collected half of it into his hands. Holding onto the collected hair with one hand, he slipped the clip around the hair and fastened it as best he could. Her hair had several awkward bumps and the hair clip was slightly askew, but to the thirteen year old boy it looked perfect. He admired it for a moment, the gold metal emphasized the gold tint of her hair while the onyx stone stood out dramatically against the light colored strands. It was with great difficulty that he let his hand pull away and end the contact to the soft locks that he rarely got to touch.

Once he finished, Sylvi's hand automatically rose to finger the new hair decoration as she slowly turned to him. She stared up at him silently for a long moment. As if unable to look at him anymore, she looked down at her feet and lifted her toes to balance nervously on the balls of her feet as her hand fell down to clasp the other behind her back.

"Thank you," she said abnormally quiet, almost shyly.

It confused Tarbin at first, Sylvi was not one for shy behavior. But then he noticed the slight tinge of pink that adorned her cheeks. It was fading quickly and could have been easily a trick of the light, but his heart refused to let him think that. Instead, it clasped onto it and held onto the idea that he saw her blush. It was one step closer to what could possibly become in a far away future.

He lifted his hand and with his middle and pointer finger extended, he poked her in the center of her forehead. She let out a small sound and he smirked as she lifted her own hand to rub at the spot, a small familiar scowl forming on her face.

"See you," he said, then walked away.

* * *

Sylvi woke to the dim winter light that filtered through her window the next morning. She gave a large stretch before slipping from her bed and quickly sprinted to the washroom adjacent to her room. She was grateful to see the steaming bath that had already been drawn by her maid and quickly undressed from her nightgown to slip into the pool of warm water.

Freshly bathed and dressed for the day, Sylvi sat down at her vanity and began to brush out her hair. Once all her tangles were unknotted and her curls smoothed out, Sylvi stood up to make her way down to the family dining hall. Just as she was about to walk away from the table, she caught sight of the newly acquired hair clip. She picked it up and took in the design again. The polished onyx stone reminded her of Tarbin's eyes. She let her fingers rub against the stone as she thought about the boy who bestowed her with such a gift. It was an odd action on his part.

She caught her reflection in the mirror. Already the hair she always had tucked behind her ear was falling free and into her face. She let out a small laugh as she stared at the loose hairs. Perhaps Tarbin's actions had not been so odd. For whatever his reasons, Tarbin was always chastising her for having her hair in her face. Yes it was true that she herself was always annoyed with it, but it never made sense as to why he would care.

Without giving it any more thought, Sylvi quickly collected half her hair and with only a few tries, managed to fasten back any potential hair that might fall into her face with the golden hair clip. She examined it as she turned her head from side to side. It was perhaps slightly crooked, but she did not bother to perfect it, she would get better with time. With that last thought, she happily skipped from her room to join her family for breakfast.


	2. Dreams

Sylvi was many things. She was a daughter. Her parents were King Fili and Queen Torvi, making her a princess of Erebor. She was the second born of the fabled romantic couple, their eldest being her brother Vali, making her a sister. Abelard, son of Lord Barden and Lady Dias, whose legitimacy and real father was often questioned, was her best friend and she his. She was part of the first generation born in the new Erebor, making her a youth that would be the first to experience the many changes her parents worked hard to establish. Being of nobility, she had certain expectations and requirements to achieve in order to ensure that she would become a fit member of the mountain's future leadership.

All of these were positions that many would consider high in favor, and while Sylvi did not forsake her fortune in life, she still dreamed of becoming one more thing.

A soldier. A fighter for peace. A protector of her home.

With the exception of her family members and friends, she was willing to give up everything. Her future as a leader, her books and well versed teachers, even her title as a princess. All of these she would sacrifice in exchange to join the ranks of Erebor. It was a fine job for most within the mountain but for a princess like herself, it was a significant step down. It was not rare to see nobles among the ranks but usually as high ranking officers. But those nobles were Lords and sons of Lords with the occasional Lady of the court, they were not princesses.

However, none of that mattered. From both of her parents, she had inherited their stubbornness and she always got what she wanted. She was not spoiled, her parents had done well to see to that. Everything she got, she worked for. And this, she was willing to sweat, bleed, and break herself to earn.

* * *

Sylvi limped through the main corridors, doing her best to not slow the regular hustle and bustle of the more trafficked stairways and halls. It was not until she arrived at the residential halls that housed most of the higher noble families that she finally slowed down. She was just one turn and a corridor away from her best friend's home when someone appeared at the other end of the hall.

Her steps faltered when she recognized the figure.

There was never mistaking the identity of Tarbin no matter how far away he was located. His tall and broad frame stood out amongst most dwarves his age while his impossibly dark hair and eyes, a trademark of his family, made him far more handsome than it was fair. This last bit she begrudgingly admitted but it was a fact that was as true as any information found in one of Abelard's many texts. And Sylvi hated it, it was distracting and made disliking him all the more difficult.

Instinctually her body shifted as if to turn back, she could take a detour or skip out on visiting Abelard all together. It was the downside to having her best friend live right next door to her enemy. However, before she could fully commit to her retreat, his dark eyes lifted from the ground and landed on her. She let out a small curse that she knew both her parents and her grandmother would frown deeply at. The recognition on his face told her she had been spotted and she would rather be caught in a goblin swarm than found retreating from him.

Squaring her shoulders, she picked up a quick stride while keeping her head low, hoping that she could get by with acting as if she did not see him in her hurry.

Unfortunately, there were two things working against her wishes. The first being that her limp in her right leg made it difficult to keep up her quick pace and she was forced to slow down. So instead she did her best to discreetly hide the altered step. But that only brought up the second problem, he was Tarbin, and Tarbin noticed everything.

So it was not a surprise that when she had grown close enough, she found her path blocked by his body. Snapping her green eyes up at him, she gave him a pointed look then stepped to the side, intending to continue on her way. Only she found herself being barred by his strong arm.

"Is there something in which I can help you with Lord Tarbin?"

Tarbin's perfectly shaped lips turned down into a frown at the formality of her address, polite smile, and sweet tone that both of them knew was only a front. It was the personification she used when at court events. When she was talking with people who were the last on her list to speak to and acting as if she was enjoying the event when in reality, she would rather be somewhere else. It was fake, and he did not like it when she was insincere with him. He would rather her show her bouts of uncensored hatred towards him than be fake. But most of all, he did not like the new way she liked to address him. It was impersonal and the opposite of what he wanted her to be with him. It was not until a few years ago that she used it and the sting of it had yet to dull any.

"Don't you think we have known each other long enough to be above such titles of address...princess?"

Sylvi scowled and Tarbin smirked. She too hated the title just as much as he his own. She cast a dark look up at him only to find his own face in a stoney, silent challenge. She let out a huff of secede.

"What do you want?" She growled, her tone abrasive.

Tarbin's dark eyes ran across her and she did her best not to shiver. She did not like it when this happened. It was a new development in recent years and it confused her as to what it meant. His jet black pools washed over her face, pausing on her left cheek bone where she knew the evidence of a bruise was most likely beginning to develop. Then they moved down, her body warmed in a slow wave that matched the speed of his examination. Where his eyes touched, the heat spread, all the way down until he was looking at her bare right ankle that was slightly thicker than the other due to mild swelling.

He frowned and looked back up to meet her

eyes.

"Been fighting again I see."

Sylvi shrugged. "I needed to make a point," she said nonchalantly as she examined a broken nail.

Her eyes moved back up to him when she heard him sigh.

"From what I hear you have been proving a lot of those lately," he said with exasperation.

Despite the disapproving annoyance in his voice, Sylvi smiled, making her angelic face look mischievous. Tabrin shook his head.

"Did you at least win?"

Her mischievous grin widened into a cunning impish smile. "Of course, I always do."

Tarbin could not help but smile. That's my girl, he thought but did not dare voice the approval. Instead he gave her a sharp look. "Yet you still fail to take care of yourself," he nodded to her ankle. "Last time I checked the infirmary was on the opposite end of the mountain."

Sylvi frowned at the reprimand. "It's just a slight sprain," she brushed off.

"A slight sprain that will worsen if you don't take care of it," Tarbin countered. "Common," he said, grabbing a hold of her arm to throw over his shoulder while he moved to bend down and pull her legs up into his arm.

Sylvi quickly stepped away from him. "I said I am fine," she snapped. "If you're really insistent, I can wrap it up when I get to Abelard's."

The shadow of a frown appeared at the other man's name. Sylvi was always confused by this and it was one of the main reasons she had a difficult time getting along with Tarbin. Anyone who did not like her best friend was no friend of hers. It was odd though, Tarbin was by no means cruel or even outwardly disliking to Abelard. In fact many times when she had seen them together, they seemed like friends. She was certain that most of this was due to their mutual friendship of her brother. But, there had been some occasions that the two of them were alone and seemed just as genuine as always.

Abelard was of a different nature. This made him a target for ridicule and spite from many of their peers. But Tarbin was one of the rare people in the mountain, he was patient with his odd behaviors and oftentimes defended him against others. In fact, most people left Abelard alone now because of the many beatings Tarbin had dealt out. This information was apparently supposed to remain quiet but she had heard Vali and Tarbin talking about it a few years ago. For this she had been grateful. But despite these facts, Tarbin still seemed to gain a sour expression whenever she seemed to bring him up.

"He is not home," Tarbin supplied, moving forward again in an attempt to pick her up. "His family left a half hour ago to have supper at his mother's family home."

Sylvi moved out of his reach as he spoke, her face winced when she stepped too hard on her injured foot in an effort to get out of his reach. "I don't need to go to the infirmary," she protested.

Tarbin paused for a moment to study her, his face pinched with irritation. "Fine," he began, moving towards her again, "you don't have to go to the infirmary, you can get it taken care of at my house since that's pretty much where you were headed anyway."

Again she avoided his arms. "I will take care of it myself when I get home," she quickly rejected.

Tarbin's brow formed into the stern one that his father gained when something was rather irksome. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tarbin let out a suppressed growl. When it died down, he looked at her with a soft look. His dark eyes still a shiny luster but despite the dark void, they held a warmth to them.

"Sylvi," he said in a gentle tone, "please, just let me help you. If not for your health, do it for mine at least, because you know your father would kill me if I let you wander around injured."

Nibbling her lip, Sylvi looked back at him. His face was pleading as his midnight eyes looked down at her. She hated it when he gave her that look and used that tone. It was her weakness, and he knew it.

"Fine," she sighed in defeat. "But I can walk by myself, I don't need to be carried," she added, not willing to give in completely.

Tarbin begrudgingly accepted the compromise but when Sylvi gave out a small gasp of pain, he grabbed ahold of her arm and supported her the rest of the way.

* * *

The movement in which he wrapped her ankle was methodical and delicate, something Sylvi did not expect from the hands of someone like Tarbin. Following his father's footsteps, Tarbin was in the beginnings of a lifetime career within the military of Erebor. He was born to be a fighter. For as long as she could remember, he excelled at any weapon placed in his hands. And all through his years of tutelage and school, he excelled in anything that involved critical thinking, analyzing, and problem solving, all essential tools for a master of warfare.

Currently he was already enrolled in official training. He had joined two years ago despite the fact that he was under the minimum age of recruitment. Due to his skills and potential, an exception had been made for him. Sylvi liked to believe it was only because of his connections with the master of the royal army, Lord Ferin, his father. But deep down, Sylvi knew it was a well deserved and earned privilege. However, jealousy was not beneath her in this situation.

Tarbin was already so far ahead in his training that he would most likely graduate early and be an official soldier of the Erebor army. Once he did that, Sylvi had no doubt in her mind that he would not remain a simple soldier for long. Without a doubt, he would excel in the ranks just as he already was. He was accomplishing and would accomplish more than she ever dreamed. If it weren't for her jealousy, she would be proud of him.

At this thought, she looked down at him from where she was perched on the dining table. One leg hung down and swung lazily in small circles while the other sat propped on Tabin's lap. He was sitting in one of the many chairs that surrounded the table as he gently wond a long linen bandage around her bare ankle. With his head bowed and attention fixated on properly winding the bandage to support without being too tight, Sylvi took the rare opportunity to reaquant herself with his features. Ever since he had started training, she did not see him as often.

His jaw, which not so long ago seemed to have just started to develop uneven bristles, was no longer smooth and pale. Instead it had a thick cover of dark hairs that were kept well groomed. A curtain of dark curls kept his eyes veiled from her as he leaned forward in his medical administration. She had forgotten his hair was curly. She was not sure exactly when it was, but there was a point in her life when he suddenly started keeping his dark locks buzzed short. It was the only physical trait he had seemed to gain from his mother. Until now, she had forgotten how much she missed them.

Without thinking, she reached out and brushed the section of wavy locks in front of his forehead. "Your hair has gotten long," she said.

Tarbin's movements froze at her touch then after a moment, he went back to the task at hand.

"I know," he mumbled as he finished wrapping her ankle and began to tie it off. "I've been meaning to get it cut but training has kept me a bit busy."

"That's a shame," she found herself saying as she continued to play with the soft fringes hanging over his face. "I like it like this."

His fingers, which had been so gentle and nimble through the entire process, pulled the knot tighter than he meant to as his head shot up. Sylvi was startled by the sudden inspection of his eyes and retracted her hand as her body leaned back. For a moment, she found herself caught up in his eyes until the heavy thudding in her chest brought her back to reality and she wondered why her heart was beating so quickly.

"Really?" he asked, his tone held something in it that Sylvi could not quite understand.

As she regained her senses, the small tingle in her leg caused her to look away from his eyes. Instead her attention moved down to see Tarbin's thumb slowly stroking the skin of her shin where his hand rested. She looked back up at his face to find him distracted in thought and most likely unaware that he was even doing it. She could feel the warmth of his fingers with each graze of his calloused fingers against her tanned skin. And then she became aware of the sudden warmth that was spreading from the point of contact to the rest of her body, causing her cheeks to feel like they were on fire.

She cleared her throat and moved her leg from his lap as she began to situate her dress and lower herself from the table. "Yes well," she began, trying to sound indifferent. "It's not that it reallyー"

"Why?'

She stopped her rambling when he spoke and she looked at him.

"What?"

"Why do you like it?" he clarified.

"Oh, well, I don't know. It just...makes you seem less...serious," she finally answered. "But then again maybe it's better if you cut it. I mean, you don't want those under your command thinking you're some approachable softy."

His dark brow arched. "So you think I am going to be a commander?"

Sylvi let out a snort. "Please, you already know your going to replace your father someday. You can stop feigning modesty, there is no one around to impress."

Tarbin frowned then shrugged. "Nothing is certain. Who knows, maybe it's beginners luck. For all you know I might fail the final exams."

Sylvi let out another disbelieving sound. "Oh yes, because Mr. Perfect has a limit."

"So you think I'm perfect?" he said, his tone becoming a light tease.

Sylvi shot him a narrowed look and folded her arms. "Oh get over yourself. Anyways, you may be the best trainee they have ever seen now, but just wait until I get in."

Tarbin's smile slightly faltered at her words. "So you are still set on joining the army?"

"Yes," she replied slowly. "Why, you don't think I can get in?"

Tarbin shook his head. "It's not that, it's just...don't you think it's a bit...beneath you?"

Sylvi narrowed her eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?" her voice was dripping with a tone that was similar to a cornered dogs growl. "Because I am a princess I am not qualified to defend my own kingdom? I can't risk getting a little dirty to protect the people that would give everything they owned and more if my family asked them too?"

Her voice was gaining in volume and for a moment, Sylvi remembered that she was inside someone else's home. However, given the quietness of things so far, she deduced they were alone and therefore unleashed her rage at full volume.

"If so, then what am I supposed to do? Sit around and paint tables? Wait for some charming noble to take notice or wait until my family needs to make a negotiation and trade me off as a bargaining chip?"

Tarbin's face soured at her words. "You know full well your parents would never do that," he said firmly, his voice holding a tinge of resentment.

"Oh yeah?" she remarked. "Since when did you get so close with my parents because last time I checked my father still dislikes you!"

Her words made him grimace slightly.

It was true. King Fili did not like Tarbin. It was a side effect to the construed hateful friendship between Tarbin's own father and hers. However, Tarbin always felt Fili had his own reasons for disliking him, and Tarbin was certain it was because the king knew of his deepest darkest secret.

Tarbin loved Sylvi.

It was a fact that had been true for as long as he could remember. And it was a fact he hated. Because of all the people he could have fallen in love with, it had to be someone who hated him. She had always hated him. Tarbin felt most of it was from the constant open warnings Fili had given his daughter to stay away from him, but in more recent years, he had noticed Fili's bad opinion of him soften. If only but a little. Yet Sylvi's resentment towards him did not seem to waver.

In complete truth, Tarbin had admired Sylvi's ambition and dedication. If she were anyone else, royalty or not, he would praise such dreams. She was well skilled already for combate and he knew with proper training, she would be just as equal as any of his other comrades in training. The few shield maidens within the ranks were perfectly capable as any soldier and he believed Sylvi would easily give them a run for their money despite her lack of official training.

But things had changed with time. With the reality of the impending war that had been building over the decades, as well as his own eyes opening and understanding what dangers and risks went into being a soldier, he struggled with supporting her anymore. He was worried. Worried that she would succeed in her dream and then he would never be able to rest. Not with the constant worry of her safety. Tarbin was certain, that with her success, would come his insanity.

"And who are you to speak of things being beneath them," she continued, cutting off his thoughts as she jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're a high noble yet your training."

"Its different for me," he defended. "This is what my family does. We fight. We sacrifice our lives in order to ensure this kingdom never falls. Your duty is to一"

"My duty is what!?" she cut him off. "Rule? Have you forgotten that I am a second born princess. I am not going to be a queen, I have no duty, I have no purpose!" There were tears welling up in her eyes as she voiced her most sensitive thoughts. "I just need something that has meaning in my life. Something worth dedicating my time and effort to."

Tarbin had not seen her cry since she had broken her arm when she was fifteen. And then it had been more out of pain than any emotional hurt. He hated seeing her cry, he had always hated it.

"Sylvi," he said in a soft voice, "I didn'tー"

"I should go," she quickly said, cutting him off as she turned away from him to hide the fact that she was brushing away her tears. "Thank you for caring for my sprain."

Her whispered gratitude left him feeling horrible as he watched her begin to make her way to the front door. He wanted to stop her, but before he could move or say anything, the door flung open before Sylvi could even reach it.

In one swift fling of the door, the thick silence and stillness that had fallen over the empty house was utterly destroyed. Tarbin's mother, Hilda was standing in the doorway, her curly hair was in disarray as a child of only a year in age played with it as he sat in her arms. Around her, two other children ran in circles around her legs, each one squealing and giggling. Behind her stood another boy several years her junior, dark hair and honey eyes that gave him a unique look. It was Tarbin's younger brother, Finn. While he held several packages and bags of shopping, Finn yelled down at the two younger siblings as they weaved in and out of his legs, nearly knocking him down. Sylvi looked at the woman before her who, despite the chaos in which she was surrounded, looked brightly back at her with a wide grin on her face.

"Sylvi," she said brightly, her warm honey eyes instantly making Sylvi's earlier upset mood seem lighter. "It is so good to see you," her kind eyes flashed past her to where Tarbin was half seated at the table. A pleased smile stretched across her face as she moved her attention back to Sylvi. "I hope we did not disrupt anything, had I known you and Tarbin were having a private moment I would have stopped by the clothing district to get the twins fitted for their new clothes."

Sylvi felt her face go warm. "Oh no, you haven't interrupted anything," she quickly insisted, embarrassed at what the woman was assuming. "In fact," she began to inch towards the door, "I was just about to leave."

"So soon?" his mother responded sounding slightly disappointed. She looked at the clock over the mantle and brightened. "Why don't you stay a little longer and join us for supper!"

"Ah…" Sylvi stalled for an excuse.

It was always difficult for her to say no to Hilda. There was not a request that she had never fulfilled for the beautiful woman. At the moment Sylvi could not recall exactly why she seemed to always be under the control of the sweet and gentle woman, but as much as she wanted to please the woman, lingering any longer with Tarbin countered that.

"Oh no, I couldn't impose," Sylvi excused hastily as she began to slip past Hilda to make an escape. "I really ought to be on my wayー"

She was stopped when a vice like grip wrapped around her wrist and she turned to see Hilda grabbing tightly to her with the sweetest smile on her face. And it was then that Sylvi remembered why she could never say no to the woman. It was because Hilda did not take no for an answer. Sweet, beautiful, and warm Hilda, that was what everyone knew her as. Only those closest to her knew of her other side, the one that always managed to get her way.

"Nonsense," Hilda sweetly waved her off as her hand wrapped tighter. "Come along, Finn can send word to your family and with your help we can have supper ready in half an hour. Then after we eat you can be on your way."

With that she shooed her second born off to deliver the message while she dragged Sylvi away to the kitchens. Just as they passed by Tarbin, Sylvi caught an amused smile pull at Tarbin's lips. Sylvi gave him an accusing stare to which Tarbin only shrugged his shoulders. They both knew there was nothing to be done but endure whatever Hilda had planned. Fact or not, it didn't stop Sylvi from blaming it all on him.

* * *

Dinner was delicious, warm, and longer than Sylvi had anticipated. She had not realized just how long she had stayed until Hilda suggested that Tarbin walk Sylvi home due to the lateness and her injury.

Sylvi had tried to insist that it was not necessary but again, Hilda did not take no for an answer. That and Tarbin had made no refusal to his mother's request. Instead, as Sylvi made a profuse string of excuses that she was fine to go alone, he had let out a heavy sigh, grabbed her arm, and proceeded to walk out of his home. Sylvi had just enough time to give a smirking Hilda a final word of gratitude before being dragged out of sight.

"Can you stop trying to rip my arm from me?" Sylvi requested when they had walked down several corridors and Tarbin had still yet to let her go.

Tarbin spared her a glance then looked down at his hand wrapped around her wrist. He looked awed for a moment, as if just noticing for the first time. However instead of letting her go, he slowed down his pace to match hers then gently wove her arm through his in a gentle escort.

"That's not what I meant," she said as she tried to extract her arm from his.

Tarbin's other hand moved too quickly and grabbed her before she could fully withdraw from his looped arm. "If my mother found out I didn't properly escort you while injured she would have my head," he announced, as he reset her hand in the crook of his elbow.

He turned his head to fully look at her, dark eyes challenging. His grip was not so tight that she could not release herself, even though she knew he could easily keep her captured. But that was not Tarbin's way. He never used his strength against anyone outside of training or battle.

Sylvi felt herself grow warm under his intense stare. She held it as best she could before averting her eyes and giving out a sigh.

"Very well," she said, giving in as she adjusted her arm slightly to take advantage of his offered crutch to alleviate some of the pain in her ankle. "But I am only doing this to spare your mother any upset, it has nothing to do with keeping you safe from her rarely seen ire."

"Tch," Tarbin scoffed as he rolled his eyes and looked forward. "Of course, I would never think your best interest would be for my well being."

Sylvi frowned at his tone. Normally when they had these banters he would take on a sarcastic tone. But there was something off this time. There was a bitterness in the underlying of his words. As if his feelings were actually hurt.

"You know that's not completely true right?" She asked gently, ridding any joking manner in her voice this time. "If something were to actually happen to you I would care."

Her words were truthful and she wondered when exactly she actually started caring. It wasn't the first time she had these thoughts. She supposed it started when he began his official training and the reality of childhood and adulthood collided. Tarbin would soon be sent out on actual scouting missions and battles. With war talks in the south, and dark armies beginning to leak out of Mordor and other places of middle earth, such as Gundabad and Dol Guldor, the chances of him being hurt or even killed were increasing. And with his skills, there was no doubt he would be placed in the most dangerous positions.

He looked at her with a skeptical expression. "Yeah?"

She nodded immediately which seemed to lighten his mood. "Of course. You mean a lot to my brother and I would hate for him to lose you. And your parents and siblings would be devastated. I would hate to see your mother go through that loss. You know you're her favorite right? And then Abelard as well, you know how people would make him a victim if they thought you were no longer under his protection."

The eager look in his eye dimmed as he looked forward again. "Right," he agreed, half heartedly. "Well I don't know about the rest but I think Abalard would be fine. He would have you to keep him protected."

His tone was a mixture of pride and resentment which only served to confuse Sylvi. She looked up at his face but his profile was shadowed too much for her to read. So she stayed quiet and for the rest of the way they walked silently, arm in arm.

* * *

They arrived at the doorway that led into the royal wing where her family lived. He released her arm and turned to face her. Sylvi immediately folded her arms, doing her best to keep the comforting warmth that had seeped from his body into her side as the draft from the empty corridor ran past.

"Sylvi…" Tarbin began hesitantly.

She looked up at him, her face was slightly strained in thought but her eyes were shining with curiosity. They always were.

Unable to stop himself, Tarbin found his hand reaching up to grasp for a long wavy strand that hung around her arm. He pulled it gently as he let the pad of his thumb brush the soft bundle of hair in his fingers. He couldn't help the soft smile that formed on his lips at the feel of it. It had been awhile since he had an opportunity to do this, courtesy of the hair clip he had given her. A present that he was happy to see still decorated her hair to this very day.

"...yes?" Sylvi asked in a breathy whisper, taken aback by his sudden, none purposeful touch.

His dark eyes moved up from the strand of hair in his fingers to meet her green irises. "About earlier...when you were talking about becoming a shield maiden…" he took note of the sharp warning that sparked in her face but he carried on, "for what it's worth, I think you will be an exceptional shield maid."

Her earlier warning faded as her eyes brightened. "Is that you admitting that it is not beneath me?" She questioned, catching on to his wording.

"I think that it is an honor to anything you might aspire to be," he said. "Be it a princess, a soldier, or a farmer. As long as it makes you happy." He couldn't help but smile at her joyful expression to his words. It was something he seemed to hardly be the cause of. "Someday you will make a fine little warrioress."

With that, he poked her in the center of the head and walked away without another word.

Sylvi was left standing alone as she rubbed her forehead. He was always doing that. Since she was a child he had always done it. She often pondered what it could mean but all she could analyze about it was that it seemed to be some sort of gesture of affection. But she had written that theory off as preposterous. There wasn't nor would there ever be any affection between them. Unfortunately, the thought was not quite as believable as it had once been.


	3. Broken

**Several Years Later…**

“What did your father say about it?” Tarbin asked as he helped Sylvi up from where she had fallen after he knocked her over with a controlled, but heavy blow. 

“He said no,” Sylvi answered, her voice breathless from hard landing on her back. 

“Well then I guess there is nothing else to be done,” he said with a shrug as he gave her a sympathetic smile. “But don’t worry. It’s just one more year and then you will be of age anyways.”

“Actually,” she began as she fiddled with her grip on the hilt of her weapon. She looked up at him, green eyes shining brightly with hope. “I was thinking maybe you could talk to your father. If he expressed—“

“No,” Tarbin said firmly, his tone contrasting with the softer one he had just used. 

Sylvi wrinkled a sweaty brow as she looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean no?” She questioned. 

Tarbin avoided her glare and went about loosening the various pieces of training gear he wore. They had just finished a grueling training session and he too was soaked in a layer of his own sweat as his breaths came in and out in strained, but not as labored as Sylvi’s, inhales and exhales. 

It was a routine that had developed over the years and had become a habit. Once Tarbin was finally able to accept that Sylvi was determined to become a shield maiden, he decided that he would not stand in her way. However, that did not mean he would not interfere, he would see to it that she was as best prepared as possible. If she was going to be a shield maiden, she would be the best shield maiden Erebor had ever seen. 

When he had initially extended the offer he had been surprised when she did not automatically reject it with a scoff. Instead she eagerly accepted his help without hesitation. Tarbin had counted it as a win and since then he had learned to savor these sessions. Sure they had some rough days on occasion. Sylvi was an eager learner but she was impatient. She disliked Tarbin’s method of paced quality over rapid sloppy training. But she had done well enough and over the years she had improved exceptionally. 

Their interactions had improved as well and he was beginning to believe that she no longer harbored any ill feelings for him. That is until today. She had asked her father to be allowed to join official training early, like he had. However, it seemed Fili was not quite so eager for his daughter to join the ranks of his kingdom's army. Tarbin understood why and while he supported her dream, he would not go against his King’s decision. King Fili already had enough reasons to dislike him, he was not about to give him another by going against his wishes. 

“I mean, no, I won’t speak to my father about you starting official training early,” he replied, not bothering to look up from the knot that held his arm guard to his forearm and therefore missing the hard glare sent his way. “The rule is one must be of age. In two months you will be old enough and then you can apply.”

“But the next recruitment won’t be until next year if I don’t do it now,” she explained. “I will practically be a year behind.”

_ Thank Mahal for the technicality, _ Tarbin thought. When the time came, he would support her fully...next year. But until that time, he would not go against the delay. One more year meant one more year of practice. Which meant she would be a better fighter when the time came for her to face things other than himself dressed in sparring gear and a blunt sword. It meant one more year of being safe and one more year for him to keep his sanity before the irrational worry would set in. 

“Then you will be more than prepared for the entrance exams and physical testing,  _ next year _ ,” he emphasized. “I agree with your father, you should wait until you are of proper age, rules are rules.”

She let out a scoffed snort. “Yeah, unless you're the son of the Master of the Royal Army and get special treatment.”

Tarbin winced at her words. He knew that him being accepted early would come back to haunt him later. He heard the gossip and rumors that he had special privileges because of his lineage but he had never let it bother him. He had strived to always prove that it was his skills and not his heritage that had earned him that exception. And if him entering the final exam tomorrow, two years ahead of his starting fellow recruits, he was not sure what would be more proof of that.

“An exception was made for me because of my skills,” he said, finally lifting his attention and giving her a pointed look. “I was above average and therefore an invitation was made. I didn’t ask to be accepted early.”

“But it’s only two months! I would be of age by the end of the first quarter and you yourself said that I am better than any of the shieldmaidens you started with. If you could just speak—“

“No,” Tarbin said firmly. She gave him a hard look at his tone and he ran a frustrated hand across his face as he let out a sigh. “Look Sylvi,” he started with a rationalizing tone, “you know that I think you are capable, but I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

He could see the hurt in her face and automatically reached out to her. She reacted immediately by slapping the offered hand away from her as she stared back at him, angry eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

“Why do you always do this?” she accused. “You support me in bettering my skills, but then anytime it actually counts to test myself you won’t help me. It’s two months! What difference would it make?”

Tarbin stared back at her without giving an answer. It was not because he didn’t have one, but because he knew she would not understand. And even if she did, she would never accept it. But the truth was, to him, those two months made all the difference. 

It meant that he could delay his worry over her safety for one more year because of a technicality. It meant that she would be better prepared and hardened to stand her ground against those who would single her out because of who she was. When he had first started he had experienced this same treatment. While social classes were certainly less divided since King Fili’s reign began, it was a mentality that had yet to be fully eradicated. Despite the lessening of elitism between classes, there was still a small gap that caused certain preconceptions. 

When he had begun his training, many saw it as an opportunity to have a chance to teach him a lesson for being born into the station that he was. After his own experience and factoring in her even higher divide of station, as well as reputation, Tarbin knew that it would be even worse in her case. Her fights with peers had ceased recently but it didn’t mean those days were over. They were just marinating and building up to something that would soon overflow into a raging flood. 

In the morning he would be leaving for the final test, and if he passed it, he would not be around as much. Already he was worrying about the trouble she would get herself into while he was in the mountains for the next several weeks, what would happen when he was gone for months or even seasons at a time? 

“You know how I feel about you Sylvi,” he said suddenly. His lips tightened at the outburst as she looked up at him in shock. Tarbin swallowed. He had not meant to say it out loud, he had meant to keep that to himself. But he had his suspicions that Sylvi had already known. His actions in the past year had not been as subtle or masked as the ones before. He cleared his throat. “I know I have never voiced it fully...but I-”

“I never asked for that,” Sylvi quickly interrupted in a panic.

She averted her eyes, unable to keep his gaze as she felt her heart begin to speed back up, after her period of rest from their spar. Yes, she knew how he felt. She had picked up on it over the past year and she had dreaded this day. Dreaded the day that he would vocalize such things because she did not want to deal with it...at least not yet. She had an agenda and love was not part of that agenda. When it was unspoken it was easy to ignore. But now…

“I know,” Tarbin replied quietly. “But I can’t help it.” 

Her eyes shot up at him and she forced a hardened glare onto her face. “It still doesn't give you a right. You have no claim to me to dictate what I can and cannot do.” 

Tarbin shook his head. “I seek no claim over you Sylvi. I don’t wish to own you...nor am I trying to domineer you...”

“Then let me join,” she demanded. “Talk to your father, speak with mine.” 

Tabin let out a soft sigh and gave her a tired look. “I’m sorry Sylvi but I just can’t,” he said in an apologetic tone. 

She threw the practice sword he had let her borrow to the ground. “Fine,” she spat, the long ago familiar venom returning to her voice. She turned around and began to stomp away, ripping at the bands and pads that had protected her from Tarbin’s hits earlier. “I hope you fail,” she shouted, not looking back at him. “Then maybe you will finally know what it feels like to have your dreams yanked out of reach when your fingers are just about to brush them.”

Tarbin stared after her, his mind echoing her words and his heart heavy. He knew she was only lashing out in anger and didn’t really mean them. She was hurting and she wanted to hurt him. However she had no clue as to just how close she was to the truth. The irony of it all made him want to laugh in hysteria. His dream was nothing close to being a soldier. It was just a means and pathway in which he hoped to earn enough respect from her father that he would have an actual chance to pursue his dream, his actual dream. Unfortunately his dream hated him and he wasn’t sure if there would ever be a time she would accept him.

* * *

Sylvi swung her sword down with all her might, all of her blows had been like this today. Her arms were numb and protested every movement, but still she pushed herself onward. Fueled by frustration and anger, she vented her emotions by destroying the practice dummy before her. 

With a horizontal slice that caused her sword to ring through the air, she sliced through the neck of the dummy. Loping off the head, it fell down to the stone ground with a muffled thud as a dusting of its hay stuffing particled in the air and clung to her sweaty face and clothing. She let out a cough as her heavy breathing caused her to inhale some of the irritant and she turned away from the dummy to fetch a drink of water. 

A bucket hung from a post near a rack of various training weapons and from it she ladled out several mouthfuls of water. Revived, she turned back around towards the training dummies again, determined to end her earlier victim's neighbor with the same beating. However she came to a stop when she felt a pair of eyes on her. She glanced to her side and noticed a familiar figure leaning against a training post. 

Torsten was a distant cousin of Tarbin’s. His family lived in the Iron Hills but frequented Erebor enough that Sylvi had grown familiar with him. When growing up his family visited every summer and with him being of close age asTarbin and her own brother, it was natural that he, her brother, and Tarbin spent numerous hours together. Many of those hours were spent in her family's living space or in the hidden cavern which meant his presence was quite constant during the months time that he would visit each year. And like Tarbin, Sylvi had abhorred him growing up. Partly because of his lineage to Tarbin, but mostly because of the constant teasing. Anything and everything Torsten could tease her about, he did. 

Now that they were older Sylvi found him slightly more tolerable, at least once you got past the flirting. Like his cousin and everyone else in their bloodline, Torsten was unfairly attractive, and he knew it. He was a notorious flirt that unfortunately too many maidens fell for. Fortunately, Sylvi could see past his empty advances and ignored them. Although she had a suspicion his flirting with her had more to do with annoying his cousin than herself, as he tended to lay his more frivolous advances on her when Tarbin was within earshot. 

“My, my,” he chimed across the training grounds as she redirected herself to approach him, “I must say Sylvi, if you keep getting more pretty I just might have to forget my bachelor ways and settle down.” 

Sylvi rolled her eyes and came to a stop in front of him as she folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?” she questioned, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment to his comments. “When you didn’t come last year I had hoped you were eaten by a warg so I would not have to deal with your antics anymore.” 

He displayed an unhappy pout at her disregard. “Oh my dear sweet Sylvi, how canst thou be so cruel to a man with a weakened heart. Come now, you can at least admit you missed me a little?” he said with a wink.

Sylvi raised an unamused brow. “Not in the slightest.” He let out a mocked whimper and clutched his chest dramatically. Sylvi let out an amused huff while shaking her head. “Sorry, did I wound your weakened heart again?” she questioned with sarcastic concern. 

Torsten nodded vigorously and gave her a saddened look. “Yes, the longer my love for you goes unrequited, the weaker it becomes. The healers say I only have a few months left.” His pathetic display of a forlorn expression quickly disappeared as a sly grin crossed his face. “Although they said a kiss might at least delay such a fate.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “So what do you say, it is at least the only decent thing you could do since you are the cause ofー”

“I have training to do,” Sylvi interrupted dryly as she turned around and began to walk away, leaving Torsten alone with nothing but his theatrical sham to keep him company. 

As he watched her, a sharp grin stretched across her face. Taking several hurried steps he caught up with her and ignored the groan that he heard her emit when he fell into step. “You seemed a bit agitated earlier when you were maiming, I mean practicing,” he corrected. “Something on your mind? Or maybe something in your life bothering you recently?” he nagged before passing her and swiftly turning to face her, causing her to come to an abrupt stop. “Or…” he began with a teasing tone, “Maybe it's an absence of something that has you so worked up...or should I say….someone?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Tarbin,” he said bluntly. “It’s been what? A week since he left for his final exam? In lover’s terms that nearly a year.”

Her eyes slitted even more dangerously. “We are not lovers,” she corrected with a sharp tone. “I couldn’t care less if he was gone for a week or ten years.”

One of the things that Torsten found to tease her the most when growing up was the ‘romantic tale’ being played out between herself and his cousin. Sylvi had heard countless odes, bards, and once a rather catchy lymeric dedicated to the ‘star crossed lovers’. As a child it infuriated her but now as an adult, it made her uncomfortable. Her mother and father were the ones with a fairy tale romance, not her. Especially not with Tarbin. 

Over the years she had grown to value him as what one could call a friend. While that was how she labeled it, she knew that was not what it was. Their relationship had always felt off. Sylvi had always blamed it on their rocky younger years of rivalry, but the more she thought of it, the more she realized rivalry was not the right word. With this thought, Sylvi found herself frowning as she recalled her latest exchange of words with him.    
  


“OH! Did you have a lover’s spat!” Torsten exclaimed with glee as he caught the slight frown on her face. “Do tell me, what did my dearest lover boy cousin do? Give his dearest a rose? Forge a courting bead? Professed his undying love?” 

Torsten ticked off each suggestion with a finger as he continued to name off his ridiculous nonsense. Normally Sylvi would scoff at such things, but the closeness to what had happened had caught her off guard and she could not help but stare wordlessly back. Tarbin had not exactly professed his undying love, but he had confessed something. Or at least tried to. 

Torsten paused his tracking on his fingers and suggestions when he realized Sylvi was not giving her usual denial of such things. “Wait,” he said, slightly stunned. “Did he?”

“...”

At her pause, Torsten’s eyes widened. “No way!” he said with disbelief before letting out a huff of astonishment. “It's about time, finally I can stop listening to him pine away about-”

“He didn’t say anything,” she quickly interrupted. Which was the truth, technically he didn’t voice it, he just implied it. They had been arguing and many things were said that should not have. “And stop saying things like that. If Tarbin finds out that you are saying such things it will make things awkward between him and my brother.” 

Torsten raised a brow. “You mean awkward between him and you. I am confident your brother would love nothing more than for you two toー”

“I said drop it,” she growled warningly. “Now go find someone else to bother,” she instructed with a side step. “I have things to do and would like some solitude.”

Torsten turned to watch her walk away and he took in her face. As he caught the faint tint to her cheeks, he smiled to himself and let out a huff as he rolled his eyes. Torsten was many things but he was also equally not many other things. One thing he was, was good at reading people and seeing past their lies. One of the things he was not good at was listening to people. 

He could tell Sylvi had been lying about Tarbin saying anything, which was something he would be investigating the moment his cousin was back. He could also tell that, while Sylvi claimed she wanted solitude, she needed someone. Maybe not necessarily to talk to, but at least distract her from thoughts. And since he cared for his cousin, who cared for this princess who failed to give his favorite cousin the time of day he deserved, Torsten was willing to look past her faults and aid her well-being. All in the name and efforts of his cousin. 

“How about instead of beating a defenseless dummy, how about you spar with me?” 

His words caused her to pause and look back at him, her brow raising when he gave her a confident grin. “What’s the difference?” she commented. 

Torsten gave out a bark of laughter, unable to take any offense. “Ah a good verbal joust before the spar, you certainly have perfected how to wound a man's ego, but can you defeat me when it counts?” 

Pulling a sword from the nearest weapons rack, she tossed it to him and began to march towards the marked off sparring ring. “Hurry up,” she called when he did not follow immediately, “I have better things to do than teach twerps like you to have some respect.”

Torsten grinned. “You know I am older than you, really it should be you respecting your elders!” he chimed as he skipped along behind her. 

Sylvi did not even bother to form a rebuttal and it only served to make Torsten aware that he was getting beneath her skin, the very thing he always strived to do. The older she had gotten, the more patient with him, or at least better at ignoring him he had gotten. Little did she know, it only made the game more fun. 

His cousin certainly knew how to find a challenge. If Tarbin had not been so attached to her, maybe he would actually take his advances towards her seriously. However, he knew better than to get between what was woven in the tapestry of destiny. Debauchee that he was, he was also a romantic. And while the story of King Fili and Queen Torvi certainly made for a tale of tried and tested love, he found it lacked a certain dramatic flare. No, his favorite quest of love was certainly one that was still in the beginnings of being written, and if it were up to him, he would be the one to write it, or at least prod it into motion. 

* * *

He sent a kick to her solar plexus and Sylvi was sent down to the ground. Her back hit the hard ground with a painful force that sent her head rearing back as well. She let out a hiss as a stinging pain sliced into her scalp. After a few stalled breaths, she managed to recover from the stun of the hit to her chest followed by the hard landing. As she lay on the ground, splayed out and gasping, Torsten came into her vision, standing over her with an overly concerned look as his dark hair fell around his face as he leaned over her. 

“Damn Sylvi,” he said with an apologetic tone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard but shit, you were not letting up.” 

He reached down a hand and Sylvi accepted it, letting him pull her up until she was sitting up. Sylvi let out a groan as she wriggled around, trying to alleviate some of the lingering pain. A trickling sensation caused her to pause and raise a hand to the back of her head. A stinging sensation told her she found the source as her fingers dabbed at a dampened clump of hair at the back of her head. Bringing her hand back in front of her, she was not surprised by the crimson smear covering her finger tips. 

“Shit, are you okay?” Torsten asked again, his voice holding a tinge of panic. Before she could respond he was squatting next to her and digging through her hair. “I'm really sorry. I swear I was not meaning to hurt you. Shit, your dad is going to have me executed and then when Tarbin gets back he is going to exhume my grave and kill me again. 

“Relax Torsten,” she said with a groan as she moved forward to escape his fretting hands, “I'm not going to tell my dad...or Tarbin,” she added. 

As he relaxed at her words and backed off, Sylvi’s hand went back to her head as she dabbed at the wound, wincing when she found the cut again. 

“How are your ribs? I didn’t break anything did I?”

Sylvi shook her head. “Im fine, I justー” she paused when a sudden realization dawned on her when her hair fell into her face. 

Pain forgotten, Sylvi whipped her head around. Her back twinged slightly and she was hit with a dizzying sensation. She paused for a moment, hands grasping the ground until the world stopped spinning and her vision cleared up. She had hardly a moment of normalized sensation before she was hit with another sensation, this time sickening. Her stomach dropped and she wanted to throw up as her eyes caught sight of the glimmer of bent metal. 

Reaching out, Sylvi grabbed the cherished hair clip that had been holding her hair back only minutes ago. Now, as she picked it up, the clamp hung loosely at an odd angle and she found herself struggling to swallow as her throat began to burn and close up. She stared down at the decorative design, her fingers grazing over the onyx gems that were now cracked, some shattered, and to her dismay, several missing. 

Her vision went blurry again and for a moment she thought another dizzy spell was hitting her, until she blinked and the wet warmth of a tear fell from her lashes and onto the metal that she had always taken care to keep well polished and shined. 

A sob broke from her lips which seemed to break a dam within her and suddenly her face was being flooded by waves of streaming tears. Eyes blurred and fingers trembling, Sylvi grabbed at the ground, picking up the pieces of onyx that had fallen out. With the last of the salvageable stones, she began to look at the clip. It was bent and misshapened to what looked like beyond repair. 

“Mahal Sylvi, I thought you said you were all right!” Torsten exclaimed as he began to freight over her, dabbing at the now crusted blood and poking her ribs, looking for a break. “Is it your ribs? Are they broken?”

Unable to answer him, due to the now hysterical sobs escaping her throat and not understanding exactly why she was crying, for the pain was no longer there, Sylvi slowly got herself to her feet and began to walk away. Her sword and gear abandoned as she cradled the broken hair clip and its pieces within the palm of her hand. 

By the time she had reached her quarters, she had calmed down. The sobbing had settled leaving her throat feeling sore and her tears had long dried, leaving salty tracks that made her skin feel tight. Settling down next to the steady fire that had been lit in her room, Sylvi leaned in as close as she could without being burned. She stared at the flickering fire for a moment before lifting her hand to look down at the broken treasure in her palm. 

She had felt foolish for the erratic display in front of Torsten, but as she stared at the orange hue that was reflected against the black stones, her mind analyzed and processed the loss. From the time she had first received it, Sylvi had cherished the accessory like one would a beloved stuffed animal or book given to them by someone special. Tarbin was not exactly someone special, in fact, at the time he was nearly the opposite. But it was the meaning behind the gift that she had cherished. 

Tarbin had always been after her for having her hair in her face. Constantly he would nag her about it always being a distraction and how it would inhibit her as a fighter. For as long as she could remember, she had always dreamt of becoming a soldier. And for a long time, no one had ever taken her seriously. It was one of the reasons why she was always getting into fights long after she had reached an age that such behavior was no longer labeled as child's play and heralded as improper. 

When Tarbin gave her this gift, she had interpreted it as an acknowledgment of support to her cause in becoming a soldier. Whether it was his intention or not, Sylvi had seen it that way. It was the first time she felt that someone actually thought she would be good enough to reach her dream. It was also the first time her heart was softened towards Tarbin. 

Over the years, despite her greatest efforts, it had softened more. More recently it was edging on dangerous paths. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the offered lessons or just the extra time with him that proved he was perhaps not as bad as her father had always painted him, but Sylvi had grown fond of his company. To the point that she thought she could even consider him a friend. But friends did not hold each other back from their dreams. And that was what Tarbin was doing by not helping her apply early for military training. 

With that angering thought, Sylvi found herself clenching the broken metal in her hand to the point that it was painful. Tarbin had been gone for a week now. By the end of the month, he would be finished with his final test and arrived back. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that but one thing was for sure. Her father had been right about him. 

He was nothing but a liar and leech. He had made her think he supported her. He had made her think he was a friend and that he actually cared. But he didn’t. He had even had the audacity to insinuate her had feelings for her. Something she now could not find believable because when a person loved another, they supported them no matter what. It is what her parents did and if anyone was an example of two people in love, it was them. 

Again, for the second time that day, tears began to form in her eyes. Tears of hurt and betrayal and anger. She hated that she felt this way but she was hurting too much to care. Normally she would not allow herself to pity herself, there were far more people who were not as lucky as she. Both her parents had instilled this belief all throughout her childhood. Pointing out the numerous advantages she had in life that others did not. 

But when you are vulnerable, it's hard to remember such things. And right now, despite all the advantages she had been told she had, she could not understand why achieving her goal was proving to be so difficult and far more complicated than she had ever imagined it to be.

* * *

Tarbin didn’t fail, in fact he passed with flying colors and was immediately promoted to lieutenant. His family had hosted a dinner in celebration and as usual, the King and his family had been one of the families in attendance. 

Sylvi bit at her lip and nervously looked around the room. She was not sure how she felt about being present at tonight's celebration. Her last words to Tarbin were not exactly congruent with the cause for such festivities. 

So far she had done well to avoid him. There had been a quick run in with his cousin who had been determined to bring the two ‘long lost lovers’ together, but she had thankfully slipped away when Torsten had been looking the other way. Now she stood in the corner of the room, half hidin behind a statue as she kept her eyes alert for not only Tarbin but Torsten as well. 

“What are you doing?”

She let out a small squeak as she startled and spun around to find Tarbin standing behind her with a confused look. “Um...hiding from Torsten?” she said, her explanation coming out more questioning that factual. 

Automatically his confusion was erased and he slightly stiffened. “Has he been bothering you?” he prodded as he began to look around the room as he mumbled to himself. “Mahal, I told him to leave you be while I was...” he trailed off when Sylvi spoke.

“No, he hasn’t been a nuisance,” she insisted. When he gave her a look of disbelief she rephrased herself. “At least nothing more than usual,” she explained further. 

He studied her for a moment before accepting this with a nod. “I spoke to him before but I swear…” he trailed off with a shake of his head. Letting out a sigh he looked at her. She gazed back at him and they stared at each other silently, both fiddling awkwardly as they searched for something to say. 

“Sylvi!”

Sylvi turned slightly when her name was called out, exposing the back of her head to Tarbin. Habitually Tarbin’s eyes automatically wandered to where the usual dark gemstone hair clip would rest in her hair. However, instead of the warm feeling of comfort he got from seeing his long ago present decorating her hair, he was filled with gut twisting loss. The hair clip he was expecting was not there. Instead there was a different piece holding the silky golden locks in place. It was made of a chocolate gold which seemed to dull her hair rather than accentuate it. And the various colored gems that formed into the butterfly pattern seemed too gaudy. After waving to whomever had called out to her, Sylvi turned back around to face him. 

“Where is your hair clip?” He asked automatically, forgetting to keep his inquiry casual as it came out nearly accusatory. 

For a moment there was a flash of remorse that he saw in her face. Her hand went to her hair automatically and fingered the replacement. He watched as a slight worried and apologetic sadness crossed her face. But it was gone as quickly as it came, a hardened look replacing it. 

She shrugged. “I didn’t realize I was required to wear it. Last time I checked I was a princess,” she said, her tone came out harsher than she meant. “I didn’t think it would suit me to wear old and tarnished trinkets.”

The words fell from her mouth before she could process what she was saying. Immediately she regretted them when she saw the hurt look in his face. None of it was true and she missed the hair piece everyday she got ready and found herself grabbing for it, only to be disappointed. Over the years she had been gifted many as it was a gift people assumed she would like given the fact that she was never seen spotted without the type of accessory in her hair. However what they failed to notice was that it was always the same one. That is until a few weeks ago when it broke. 

Since then she had been forced to wear the others in her collection. But none of them felt right. Some had complicated clasps that pulled her hair when she put them in or removed them. Then there were ones with intricate details and while beautiful, the filigree flowers and shapes made them heavy and by the end of the day she had a splitting headache from the weighty pull on her delicate hair. She had lighter weighted ones too but she found where these ones were lighter metal work, the beauty was made up in the glittering diamonds and brightly colored precious stones. These were her least favored as they attracted unwanted attention. They were gaudy and impractical for everyday wear. She had even tried to go without, but the annoyance of her hair had her far too tempted to just chop it all off. Therefore she had to resort to the heavy and bejeweled. 

She would trade them all for her old one in a heartbeat. And now, seeing the hurt look on Tarbin’s face as she belittled the treasured piece, made the ache of loss, accompanied by guilt, even worse. Today was his day, this celebration was in his honor. She was still angry with him. While time had softened it, there was still ire there. However he didn’t deserve it, at least not tonight. 

“Congratulations on passing and being appointed lieutenant already,” she said, trying to soften the blow. “I heard my father speaking of you the other day with your father. He thinks your future is a good one.”

Her words had some sort of effect, or at least her later ones did. She knew how much he strived for praise from her father and she felt he deserved to know. Mahal knew her father would never admit it to him. She was not sure why it mattered so much, but she supposed finding favor with the king was an honor for others. It was often easy to forget that her father was a king as he strived to always make home life as normal as any other family. Something she assumed he had learned from his upbringing in the blue mountains where there was no crown or throne. 

“Thank you,” he said with a small bow of his head but it sounded rehearsed and impersonal. 

Then again she wondered why she felt as if she deserved a more personal reply. There was a long pause and Sylvi fidgeted. She didn’t like this. She had grown too comfortable with him in the past years and now things felt off. 

“Well...I suppose I will leave you to your other guests….”

Tarbin opened his mouth to say something but she had quickly scampered off before he could come up with an excuse for her to linger. 

He let out a sigh as he watched her disappear. 

This was not the reunion he wanted. The entire final exam he had been distracted, unhappy with how things had been left between them. He had an apology ready but he had been distracted by the change in her hair. That hair piece had been his only hope. It had been his silent claim of intention to her. He had interpreted her fondness of it as a small acceptance, or at least an openness to someday accept him. But it seemed the value of it had worn off. 

He let out another sigh as several people swarmed him in congratulations and he was forced to give them a smile and recite the rehearsed gratitude for their praise.

* * *

“There were more than we expected. I apologize, I should have prepared them with more scouts first before sending them out.” 

Fili shook his head. “It was not the initial mission. They were successful in clearing out the swarm. But it was the ambush that took them off guard,” Fili assured. “No one could have been prepared for that.”

As soon as she had heard the rumors that the deploy Tarbin had been sent with had been ambushed and there were casualties, she had gone directly to the place she knew she would get confirmation and accuracy. 

From the time she was little, Sylvi was always listening in. She was certain her father knew as anytime something truly private or inappropriate for her age was being discussed, he would catch her. As if sensing her thoughts, Fili’s bright blue eyes moved to her nook. She took in a shallow breath, worried that this would be a time that she would be sent away. But he made no move to shoo her. 

“And Tarbin,” Fili specified. “He survived? He is well?”

“He is alive,” Ferin announced with a tone that was not as confident as she had been hoping to hear, “But his wounds were critical. Tarbin is being transported back to the mountain now.”

Fili nodded. “I will send the master healer Oín out himself to meet them halfway. If Tarbin can hold on until then, he will be okay. He has yet to fail me in healing someone I have asked him to heal.”

Ferin nodded somberly but said nothing. He just sat down in the empty chair nearest him and buried his hands in his face before giving out a heavy sigh. 

Fili rounded his desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry, I take full responsibility for this. I was the one who called for this raid. I underestimated the threat.”

Ferin shook his head. “No. Tarbin knows the risks of his duty.” 

From behind the curtain she was hiding behind, Sylvi watched this rare and strange interaction of her father and what she had always thought was his rival. But here they were, comforting and assuring each other. Casting no blame and easily forgiving. But she was not here to solve the puzzle of the strange relationship between her father and the Master of the Royal Army. 

“He is going to be fine,” Fili said again, not taking his eyes away from his daughters. Making her wonder if he was reassuring Ferin of Tarbin’s wellbeing or herself. “Tarbin is a strong lad, he will pull through.”

* * *

Tarbin arrived at the mountain alive but not well. His wounds had been severe and while the medic in his troop had done well, infection had set in by the time Oín had arrived. By the time they had arrived back to the mountain, Tarbin was feverish and in a delirium. 

It was in the privacy of the night that Sylvi had crept through the abandoned hallways and stairwells until she reached the infirmary. She was grateful that Ferin had chosen to keep Tarbin in the infirmary instead of having him recover in the privacy of his own home. Had they done this, she would not have dared visit. 

The infirmary was still when she entered. Only the occasional ruffle of sheets or light snoring disturbed the eerie silence of the long room. By the light of the moon that shone through the windows of the eastern wall, Sylvi directed herself through the room. She found him at the very end of the wing and she was grateful for the privacy of the drawn curtain that surrounded his bed. While most within the room were asleep. She had caught a few eyes crack open as she passed by the rows of beds. 

There was an empty straight backed chair beside his bed which she hesitantly occupied, unsure of how long she would linger or why she was even there. His bed was located right below a window which allowed a large rectangle of silver moon light to shine down on him. 

She took in the shadowed planes of his face caused by his brow and nose. His skin looked pale and clammy despite the beads of sweat that formed across his forehead and temples. Taking note of the fevered evidence, Sylvi reached out for the cloth that floated in the basin of water at the bedside table. After wringing it out she lightly patted the soothing cloth against his skin. Her thumb brushed his bare skin and the heat that radiated from his skin worried her. 

“You’re such a hypocrite,” she muttered lowly, as anger began to rise out of her. For the past few days she had been riddled with worry. Now, seeing him alive and breathing, she felt fury. “You won't let me join early because you worry about me getting hurt. At least that’s what Torsten claims.” She paused for a moment as she got fresh water and continued to dab his brow. “But then you forget about yourself and you disregarded me,” she added, her voice cracking as she caught a sob from fully manifesting. “What about my worry...my feelings.” 

She grew quiet and still when the admission escaped her lips. It was no surprising revelation. She had harbored her feelings for him for quite some time. She had just kept them hidden under lock and key, doing everything in her power to ensure no one found out, sometimes even keeping herself in the dark by denial. 

It was cruel and unfair to Tarbin, but she had her reasons. She had goals in life and could not afford distractions. Tarbin was a distraction. And everytime she even dared to entertain such feelings, she couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of betrayal to her father. The last reason was perhaps an invalid excuse but it was there. Holding her back anytime she felt any kind of desire for the boy who was no longer a boy but a man. A boy with feelings she could handle, but a man with intentions was dangerous. It was serious. It was something that could not go ignored for long, try as she might. 

She rinsed the cloth and folded it into a neat rectangle before placing it on his forehead. Instead of withdrawing her hand, she let it fall into the mess of curly hair that was matted from neglect. Gently she combed out some of the tangles. “You’re not allowed to die,” she said sternly. “Get better,” she added, this time more softly, “for me. At least do that for me. Even if you owe me no favor, stay alive.” 

She let herself sit in silence after that. Listening to his breaths, watching the rise and fall of his chest as she continued to stroke his hair. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or her desperation for him to be better, but his body had seemed to become relaxed in the time she had been there. His labored breathing was more restful and his skin was looking better than the chalky pallor of before. 

When her head began to nod forward in weariness she pulled her hand free of his tendrils and reached into the pocket of her dress. From the confines, she pulled out the hair piece that she had kept at her side since the day it had broken. For some reason she had not been able to bring herself to throw it away nor leave her room without it. So instead she had kept it with her everywhere she went. 

Carefully, so as to not disrupt his injuries, she lifted the hand resting on his chest and tucked the metal under his fingers. “I am sorry I broke it. And I am sorry I said it meant nothing. It means everything to me…” she fell quiet for a moment as she looked up at his resting face. “I like to think it gives me luck...at the moment I think you could use it more than me.” 

She left without another word. Only giving him a final look over her shoulder before letting the curtain surrounding his bed fall back into place.

* * *

The moment the curtain fell shut and the sound of her departing footsteps echoed back to him, Tarbin’s eyes snapped open. He watched her silhouette moving away as a small smile came to his lips. He had been convinced it had all been a feverish dream but when his fingers tightened around the metal object in his hand, he looked down. 

He stared down at the familiar object. Although now it was not quite as familiar as before. Several stones were missing and when he flipped it over to inspect the clasp he noticed it was bent to the point of no longer being functional. 

He lay his head back down, thinking of the soothing way in which her hands had caressed his head for nearly the hour she had been present. He had nearly given up hope but now he felt better, now he felt he understood. She needed time. Something he was willing to give her. She was still young, he was still young. However one thing was for sure, he was no longer going to sit in the background and wait. He was going to make sure she knew and would always know that his intentions would never waver. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just got the worlds best Feedback for the original part of this story and it got me thinking about this story and I wandered back to my documents and noticed I had like a third of this chapter done with an outline for the rest and since quarantine and there is not much to do anyways. Not sure if people are still interested in this little side story but I will keep posting here and there or any random scenes I think of as before. 
> 
> You are all excellent. Please take care of yourselves physically and mentally. If you know someone who is need of talking to please reach out to them or if you yourself are struggling reach out to someone, anyone, just take care of yourself.


	4. Gift Giving

Sylvi finished the last stitch and tied it off before examining her needle point. With admiration, she gave it a proud nod of approval at the family crest she had just fashioned onto the pair of wool gloves. She had inherited many traits of her mother, her eyes, her nose, her need for a purpose, and independence. But there were also many traits that she did not inherit from the Queen of Erebor. Some she wished for, while others she was grateful not to have been gifted. Traits such as her mother's inability to wield a needle. 

Sylvi found herself smiling to herself as she ran her fingers over her most recent masterpiece. While it was not a particular skill that most knew she possessed, she was quite proud of it. Her maternal grandmother had taught her. Siv was more than overjoyed at Sylvi’s ability as she had been robbed of passing her own talent of needle and thread onto her daughter, so she had made up for it through her granddaughter. 

Passing her critical inspection, Sylvi proclaimed the gloves finished and packed away her sewing basket before walking over to her desk. There she lay the gloves on top of a previously knitted scarf. She admired the way they paired well with each other before taking the lid next to the box and neatly placing it over. She then looked at the clock above the fireplace mantel. 

It was late. 

But not too late, her mind countered. 

Biting at her lip, Sylvi picked up the box and hugged it to her chest. She would make it quick. It was not as if she needed to stay long, in fact she would not need to stay at all. All she would need to do was hand it over. If she waited till morning there was a possibility that she would miss him before his departure. 

With the debate settled in her mind, Sylvi nodded her head and prepared to leave. 

* * *

Her knuckles rapped against the wooden door with a timid knock. As she waited for it to be answered, she fidgeted with the parsel in her hands. She felt out of breath and noted her rapid heart within her chest. She rubbed a hand across her chest, glaring down at the spot where the treacherous organ was thundering. Why was it beating so? 

Suddenly the door was yanked open as she started slightly, her head snapping up to take in the towering figure of Lord Ferin. As many times as she had been in his presence, Sylvi had still yet to get used to his aura. Despite his likeness to his son and the ease she had found with Tarbin, Lord Ferin was the most intimidating man she had ever been around. When he first opened the door there had been a look of annoyance, most likely from being disturbed so late at night, but it turned slightly curious when he saw who it was. 

“Princess Sylvi, what are you doing here?” he questioned, his voice coming out more interrogative than curious. 

Her fingers gripped the box in her hand tighter for moral support. “Oh...um...I was just-”

“Ferin dear, who is it?” came the sweet tone of Hilda. 

The honey eyed woman appeared at the doorway, opening the door farther so she could stand next to her husband. Sylvi could not be more thankful to have the woman magically appear. Ferin may be the most intimidating person she knew, but he also had the biggest weakness when it came to his wife. 

“Oh Sylvi,” Hilda greeted brightly, once she took in the young maiden. “What a pleasant surprise. I am sorry we were not expecting anyone but please, do come in.”

Sylvi glanced to Ferin and her feet hesitated. “Um, it's okay,” she quickly said. “I am sorry to intrude so late.” She fiddled with the box then held it out. “I just wanted to make sure Tarbin got this before he left tomorrow.”

Ferin frowned but reached out for it, only to have his hand stayed by a smiling Hilda. “I see no reason why you can’t give it to him yourself. Come in, I insist.” Sylvi opened her mouth to give out a protest but Hilda was already pulling her inside, past her still frowning husband who closed the door behind them, and making Sylvi feel trapped. “Besides,” Hilda continued. “Receiving the gift from the giver is the most precious part about receiving a gift altogether. Especially ones from pretty young ladies,” she added, turning her head to give Sylvi a wink as she continued to drag Sylvi through the home to a hallway. 

Sylvi had been to their home and down this hallway enough to know that she was being led directly to Tarbin’s bedroom. Hilda stopped outside of his room and Sylvi could hear a light ruckus of shuffling, then a trunk slammed shut before Hilda knocked on the door. 

“Tarbin are you decent?” she called.

There was another sound of something being shut before footsteps and then the latch of the door as it swung open. “Mother, I thought I asked not to be…” he drifted off when he spotted Sylvi standing behind his mother. “Sylvi!” he commented in surprise. 

“You have a visitor,” Hilda said brightly as she stepped sideways and gave Sylvi a small nudge. “Why don’t you two talk in here as your father and I are using the sitting room. Although you might want to fasten a few buttons my dear son, you might make Sylvi a little uncomfortable,” she added as she turned and left. 

It was then that Sylvi realized that Tabin was dressed in nothing but a pair of pants and a loose shirt that was only buttoned halfway. Silvi had seen far more of Tarbin’s naked chest more times than she could count. She had been around when he trained with other men and all growing up, during the summers when they went swimming with siblings and friends, it was not an uncommon sight. But there was something different about the casual dress and being in his room and all alone that made such things far more intimate and less appropriate. 

Tarbin looked down at himself and immediately began to fumble with his shirt as he mumbled an apology. Sylvi felt her own cheeks grow warm as she moved her eyes between the disappearing bare chest and the door as she cleared her throat. With his last button fastened, Tarbin stepped to the side and gestured for her to come in. 

Hesitantly she entered, her eyes roaming the room nervously as she felt his eyes follow her. It was not the first time she had been in the room. In fact she had been in here dozens of times. However that was long ago when they were both younger, and they had never been alone. 

Now, it was nothing but a tabooed breaking of propriety that she was quite taken aback that Hilda had even suggested such a thing. Then again, Hilda had always made an exception for them. And as uncomfortable as she was with this situation, she would much rather be in Tarbin’s room than in the parlor with his father watching. 

For the most part everything was as she remembered it. The bed in the far corner with the green bedspread. To her right, the small green chaise lounge next to the fireplace that had a large map of middle earth over its mantle. And on the other side of the room, was the writing desk with several neat stacks of paper. Next to it, a small bookcase with several books and trinkets on display. The only thing that wasn’t as she remembered was the mess. Clothes and weapons were strewn all around the room haphazardly. She had always remembered Tarbin having been a neat and orderly person when it came to his belongings, but she supposed things could have changed. 

The sound of the door closing caused her to turn around. Tarbin was standing next to it, his hand still on the latch, keeping it slightly ajar as his eyes watched her. “Are you okay with this?” he queried. “Serka and Sven are already asleep next door, I do not wish to disturb them.”

Sylvi nodded. “Tis fine,” she commented, before her eyes roamed to room once more. 

Her distraction seemed to break his attention from her and he hastily walked forward and began to pick articles of clothing and travel supplies from off the floor. 

“Sorry about the mess,” he mumbled as he began to dump his clothing onto the bed. “I was packing and wasn’t exactly expecting to be interrupted tonight...not that you are interrupting,” he quickly added as he turned around to look at her. “You’re always welcome to come at any time.”

Sylvi gave him a smile of understanding, his embarrassment over such a thing causing her to become more at ease. “It’s me who should be saying sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to disturb you but your mother insisted.” 

Tarbin stopped his tidying and strode over to her. He ran a hand through his hair as he gave out an amused huff. “Yes,” he said with a sarcastic tone. “Well she certainly likes to insist when it comes to you.” 

Sylvi found herself nodding before she even registered what he said. She paused mid nod to look at him, a warmth coming to her face. Things just hadn’t been the same since he graduated and was added to the official ranks of the royal army. Feelings had been admitted, subtly and secretly, and it was difficult to ignore such things the older they got. She tightened her hands around the box which reminded her altogether as to why she was even here. 

“Oh,” she exclaimed, holding the box out to him. “This is actually why I came by. It was to give this to you before you left.” Tabrin took the box from her hand, his fingers grazing hers all too purposely and leaving a tingling sensation. As soon as he had a hold on it, she retracted her hands, squeezing them tightly at her sides as she did her best to ignore the small smirk on his face. “It’s kind of an early birthday present since you will be gone.” 

He nodded in understanding. Tomorrow he was leaving on assignment to go to one of the northern forts. It was only early fall but he was to remain there until the spring as once the snow fall began, most of the mountain passages would not be passable. 

“Anyways...I should probably be going,” she said, beginning to slowly walk backwards to the door. 

His head shot up from the box. “You will not wait until I open it?” he inquired. 

“Oh well…”

“You know the best part about giving a gift is seeing the receiver open it,” he added before she could protest. 

Sylvi smiled slightly. What was with this family and gifts? He walked over to the sofa and waved a hand for her to follow. He took a seat and gestured for her to take the spot beside him. As she settled down, he watched her, his hands tracing the edging of the box. 

They sat in silence for a moment, Sylvi watching him watch her from the corner of her eye before she willed herself to face him. “Well go ahead,” she prompted as she gestured to the box. 

He seemed to only just remember the box as he nodded and pulled his eyes from her to concentrate on the box. He lifted the lid, paused for a moment, then pulled the gloves out. He stared down at them. Speechless, he ran a hand over the threading stitched into it, recognizing his family seal. 

“Did I get it right?” Sylvi asked nervously. He looked up to see her biting at her bottom lip as her eyes moved worriedly between the gloves and him. “I was certain I knew it well enough...did I make a mistake?” She let out a curse under her breath. “I knew I should have never…”

She stopped when his hand grabbed onto hers. “It's perfect,” he assured. “You know it well,” he said almost proudly. 

She gave him a relieved smile and with her confidence restored, she seemed to perk up. She sat up straighter and her eyes began to alight in the way that Tarbin always admired. “It gets cold in the far north so I was hoping these would prove useful. I know wool is not the most fashionable, but it's durable and does well in keeping warm.”

In her excitement, she seemed to forget herself, scooching closer to him and pulling out the scarf from the box as well. As she moved closer, Tarbin set the box down on the ground so that she could reach over him more easily and wrap the scarf around his neck. It was thick and soft, much too warm for the current temperature for his room, and to add, her close proximity was only serving to make it warmer. However, he was not about to take it off. Not while her small hands wrapped around his neck, tucking and arranging the scarf before letting them come to rest on his chest as she admired it. Her focus remained all on the scarf around his neck while his, remained entirely on the happy expression on her face. This, that look, this relaxed closeness with her, he would take this over any birthday present someone would give. 

“I know green is your favorite color. But I thought the blue would look better,” she said as she looked at him and gave a nod. “Yes, definitely the blue.”

She froze slightly when she caught him looking at her with a certain expression. It was amused but also secretive. Like he knew something about her that she did not know. It was a look she found him giving her a lot lately...or at least as frequently as they had seen each other, which was not much since he was often busy with his newly acquired duties. But nevertheless, ever since his recovery from earlier in the summer, she had noticed something different in his countenance. Perhaps that is what happens when you stare death in the eye and survive. 

She both loved it and hated it. There was something special in that look, but it also did things to her that made her unsure of what to do with herself. 

“If you think blue is best, I will trust you on that,” he remarked, finally pulling his eyes away from her face to look down at the scarf and then the gloves again. “These are so finely made, it almost seems a sin to take these with me, surely they will get worn and ruined.” 

Her hand gave the scarf a small tug and he looked up at her. “You will wear it, every day if needed,” she instructed. “A scarf and gloves that never get worn out are a waste. If you're so worried, you can bring them back home in the spring and I will mend them for you. Or if they are so utterly destroyed I will make you a new pair.”

“Promise?” he asked. “As I recall your needle work is certainly a rare commodity. I was under the impression that you only gifted those most important and dear to you.”

Her cheeks flushed red and she looked down at her hands, picking at a hangnail as she tucked her chin. “It's not that big of a deal,” she brushed off. “I just don’t ever get around to it often. Besides, you are important.” 

“Really?”

She nodded. “Of course. Every member of the royal army is important.”

Tarbin let out an amused snort and shook his head, as if there was some sort of inside joke that she was unaware of. “So am I to assume that you will be dressing the entirety of your father's army?” he asked with a tinge of amusement. 

She rolled her eyes. “No,” she drawled. 

He gave her a grin and leaned forward causing her to slightly lean back as her heart leapt. “So you could say I was...special to you? That I hold just a little more regard than the others?”

This was one of those changes in his countenance. Tarbin had become uncommonly teasing as of late. Not quite to the extent of his cousin, but he was certainly giving Torsten a run for his golden coins. Her cheeks burned and she swallowed before letting out a huff and rolling her eyes to mask her nervousness. “Well if you're going to get a big head about it,” she said, moving to unravel the scarf and grab the gloves, “then I will find someone else to give these to.” 

She moved to take the gloves from his hand but he held tightly and pulled them back to him, tugging her forward as well. She stopped herself from falling into his lap by catching his thigh. When she looked up at him in surprise, it was to find his face dangerously close to hers. She licked her lips nervously and the movement seemed to catch his eye. For a moment, he stared at her mouth before finally looking up into her eyes. 

“Too bad,” he said. “They already have my name on them and they are my birthday gift, are they not. You can’t take them back unless….you had something else to give me instead?”

His eyes dipped back down to her lips which were now parted slightly. Sylvi could hardly breathe, not daring to make a move. His lips curled into a smile and then it was she who could not take her eyes off of his mouth. 

“By your silence I assume there is no other gift,” he said smoothly, lifting the gloves between them. “I guess I will just have to settle for these.” 

Sylvi quickly pushed herself away from him. Flustered and red, she preoccupied herself with smoothing her skirt. “Yes well...you better use them. If you come back with eight fingers because you got frostbite, don’t come crying to me.” 

He let out a small laugh which seemed to ease her out of her flustered state. Through the wall someone coughed in the room from the other side and Sylvi was reminded of his youngest siblings sleeping next door, then of the lateness of the night. 

“I should probably go,” she announced. “You still have packing and I do not wish to keep you up.”

He nodded in agreeance, albeit slightly regretful. A piece of hair fell into her face, a phenomenon that he had not seen happen in a long time. Automatically he reached out and tucked it behind her ear and she looked up at him. He had noticed that ever since she had come to him that night in the infirmary, that she did not wear any hair clips at all. Instead she tied her hair back with a leather strap. It did well to keep her hair out her face for the most part, but it seemed as the day went on, the knot would loosen its hold on her golden locks. 

He was suddenly hit with an opportunity. “Before you leave,” he said, “I have something for you.”

“For me?” she questioned. 

He nodded, then took her hand and pulled her up and walked her over to his desk. There he let her hand go and opened one of the compartments, pulled out an item, and held it out to her. 

Sylvi stared down at his open hand with a mix of emotions. Resting in his palm was a hair clip. The hair clip. The clasp had been reshaped and repaired while the missing onyx stones had been replaced. 

With a shaking hand, she tenderly took it out of his and ran her fingers over the familiar metal work. “You repaired it?” she asked. 

He nodded. “A while back but I never saw the opportunity to give it to you. Wasn't sure if you wanted it back seeing as it's just an old and tarnished trinket.” Sylvi cringed at the repeated harsh words she said what felt like long ago, but was only two seasons. “I will understand if you don't want it back but thought maybe you could use the luck一”

He was cut off when she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you,” she mumbled into his chest. 

Before he could even respond to her embrace she was pulling away, but she paused halfway. Her hands went up to the scarf that was still around his neck. “Promise me you will wear it. Don't worry about it getting holes,” she said. “Scarves can be replaced….you can't,” she said so quietly he nearly missed her words. 

When she managed to look up at him, he was nodding.

“I'm going to go now,” she announced. 

He nodded again and she began to walk towards the door. Just as she reached for the latch, he spoke. 

“Sylvi,” he began, and she turned to look at him, “If you are not too busy...a letter, every once in a while, would be nice.” He scratched the back of his head and shrugged his shoulders. “You know, just to make sure Vali stays out of trouble and maybe keep me up to date with anything new around the mountain.” 

She gave him a smile before leaving. 

He watched her golden hair disappear and even when she was long gone, he was still staring at the door. Finally, when he heard the chime of the clock in the sitting room echo down the hall and announce the lateness of the night, he went back to his packing. The last things he placed into his pack before laying down to rest, were the gloves and scarf. And when he went to bed, he could not help but smile to himself. 

He had not been optimistic about his departure. But now, now he could leave without any worries, without any regrets, and without any longings. He had something to look forward to. He had hope.

* * *

It was bitterly cold and the harsh wind that cut through the valley did not make it better. It was not even the peak of winter yet which meant it would only get colder in the next month. As another gust of bone chilling wind rushed through the encampment, Tarbin tucked his head deeper into the safety and warmth of his scarf. When he breathed in he was granted the faintest of sweet scents that remained from its maker. 

Making his rounds of the outer curtain wall of the fort, he made a full circle of the ramparts, coming to a stop near the open grated fire at the barbican. Gathered around were several other soldiers who had been posted with him for the winter as well. At his approach most gave him a nod of acknowledgement, most out of respect for his noble birth, some from his position as a ranked officer, while a few were out of acquaintance. He was still fresh in the army, not having been an official member for a year, but Tarbin had quickly learned to distinguish between all three of these nods. It said a lot about a person's character. The reasons why they gave respect gave him insight on who to trust by how they saw him. By the way they nodded, it told him if they saw him as a title in which they could glean gain from, as a soldier who would follow his lead until they were above him in rank, or as a friend who knew him for his skills and traits, not just accomplishments. 

Despite their various reasons, Tarbin gave them all an individual acknowledgment, calling them by their own name individually. “Ane, Thorgrim, Olaf,” he greeted the three eldest. “Amma,” he greeted the lone shieldmaiden. “Igor, Ivar,” he said to the last two. A pair of brothers who were identical in likeness with the exception of a scar that raged across Ivar’s brow. 

He continued this way with several others until all of them had been named. Once he had drawn up fully next to the fire, he withdrew his hands from his pockets and held them close enough until he could feel the warmth of the flames penetrate through his gloves. He listened in to the small conversation, not paying particular attention as they talked of the mundanes of the cold world they were living in. After time passed, the group around the fire began to dwindle as shifts were changed, rounds were done, or they retreated into the warmth of the keep to fetch some ale and bread. 

At some point in the night, Tarbin found himself no longer listening in the hushed chatter of the night watch. Instead, he stared forward at his outstretched hand, taking in the way the stitching of his family seal was so well designed and how the golden thread seemed to absorb the warmth and light of the fire. He soon found himself staring into the hypnotizing flames and thinking of the owner of the hands that had done such fine stitching.

Just that morning he had received a raven with a letter written by those very same hands. It had been the third one he had received since his departure, one for each full moon cycle, not that he had been counting. It had not been anything different nor shy of what he asked for. Updates on his good friend the prince, although portrayed in a slightly biased opinion of a sister. Then there was also the news of everyday life in the mountain, which given the sparse paragraph, not much had changed in his absence. As mundane as the letters were, they were what he looked forward to with the passing of time. And with each one that he received, the more eager he became for winter to end.


	5. Risks

Tarbin stood on the high platform of the shallow valley as he looked down into the mock battle field. He had recently earned himself the title of captaincy, the youngest amongst the other officers of his level. Because of this, he had been given the task of training and acting as proctor in the recruitment testing. Some would consider it a belittling and insulting assignment given his skills and office but he had taken it in good stride. It had been a request from the King himself and he was not about to disappoint him. But that was not the only reason.

A particular head of blonde flashed and his eyes darted to watch the owner said head of hair dash across the field with stealthy strides. Sylvi. Being able to work with her, to oversee her training, had been the reason why he had been so content with this position over the past year. It was her final year of training. She was skilled, certainly above any other shield maiden in her class. He had been hard on her, harder than anyone and it had paid off. She was still not the best of her class, her small stature and weaker levels of strength gave her a disadvantage, but she was still much more proficient than most of her male counterparts in training.

While he was supposed to be surveying everyone, he found himself only able to keep a close eye on her at the moment. She darted around, weaving in and out of over hangings and the remaining ruins of the old fort, until she dropped down into a ditch where the rest of her comrades of training were waiting for her. He watched as she related her gathered reconnaissance before they all began to talk, some of their faces looking distressed while others looked deep in thought. Soon they all broke out into an argument, some pointing in various directions while others drew layouts in the ground while they spoke, obviously all debating as to what to do and unable to agree on a plan of action.

He didn't blame them. This trial was not meant to be easy as their mission was a difficult task and they had been ill prepared for it. As proctors, they had done this on purpose to see how they handled the situation of being outnumbered, ill equipped, and forced to change objectives halfway through their mission. While the group continued to huddle and debate, he watched Sylvi as she looked out across the field. While far away, he could still imagine the expression on her face. It was her thinking face, the one she always wore when in deep thought and survey. One brow would be lowered in concentration while her teeth nipped and chewed on her lower lip.

She was turned away from the group she scanned the area, then suddenly, she turned to her group. He could not hear them but given the attention they gave her, she was giving her own input on the situation. As she finished, he could tell that not all were on board with her plan, as a few shook their heads and countered her. But she only shook her head and spoke more. After several minutes of this, it seems she had finally convinced her team into her plans as they all suddenly went into movement. The group moved as one unit for a while before Sylvi broke apart.

He stiffened as he watched her. _What was she doing? _He questioned himself.

She wove in and out of the ruins, making her way towards a large group that was blocking her team's escape. The question of why was she by herself crossed his mind but it was made all too clear when she was spotted, and the mock enemy began to pursue her. Abandoning their post, the group moved in Sylvi's direction, giving an opening for the rest of her group to slip by.

Sylvi was an agile creature. Her small body and light foot gave her an advantage while her training of strength gave her the capabilities to further what she could do. It was impressive to watch. She moved about the ruins in a parkour fashion, separating her opponents from each other as they all resorted to their own methods to follow depending on their capabilities. Once they had broken apart, Sylvi made her first attack. With each tap of her sword that would be a kill blow if she followed through with her motions, she took them out one by one.

Some would be impressed. And while Tarbin was proud of the form she used and skill she displayed, he found it difficult to praise her actions. They were reckless and dangerous.

She dropped down into another group blocking her team's escape as she shouted for them to run. He watched as her teammates dashed towards the safe zone as she held off the enemy. One by one they were tapped out of the fight and moved to leave the course. It seemed her plan had been executed precisely and successfully as she hoped, that is until Tarbin spotted the archer.

He wanted to shout, wanted to run to her and push her out of the way while at the same time, attack and strike down the archer himself. As Sylvi barreled her way, blocking and defending, the archer took aim while she remained ignorant of the danger she was in. The archer let the arrow loose. It flew through the air where it stuck against her chest, right above her heart.

There was a dull thud as the padded arrow struck its mark and she stumbled back. The padding prevented any major injuries, but it did little protect from any bruising. It would be nothing less than she was used to, given the abuse trainees were put under. However, despite the smallness of it all, it only meant one thing to Tarbin. If this was real, she would be dead.

Fists clenched tightly and his back ram rod straight, Tarbin whirled around from the scene and descended the ladder of the observation tower. From there he made a direct line to where Sylvi was regrouping with the rest of their team at the finish point. With each step that brought him closer, it became more and more of a stomping than a walking towards her. His mood grew dimmer when he took in the celebrations of her team.

* * *

Sylvi ran towards her cheering teammates, happy to see that all of them had been clean if any color that would mark them as injured had this been a real mission. Even as her own chest throbbed from the hard hit she had taken, and the bright red powder that had marked the blow marred her leather armor, she could not help but feel that the mission was a success. Surely they had all passed with flying colors. Over the week they had heard of the numerous teams that had failed or just barely passed with the difficulty of their tested missions. Most failures had been due to failing to carry out the mission while others were marked down for time and casualties. While she herself had been a casualty, it was her sacrifice that had made this successful. It would have been near impossible and their time would certainly not have been as short as it had been.

As she managed to keep on her feet from a heavy slap on the back from Bjorn, who was closer to the size of a human than a dwarf, she turned to Estrid, a fellow shield maiden who had become a good friend over the past years of training. They embraced tightly in celebration until Sylvi caught sight of Tarbin walking swiftly towards them. She broke away from the other girl and hurried to meet him. High on the excitement of the success, she failed to take note of the tenseness of his body nor the pinched expression that made him look more like his father than he had ever before.

Nearly skipping up to him, she failed to look more like a soldier than a child eagerly awaiting a treat. "Did you see that! Did you hear! We just beat the record!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Too bad it does not count since you failed." His words sobered her instantly and all excitement and pride was sucked dry when his mood was registered.

She gave him a look of confusion. "What do you mean failed?" She questioned. "We made it to the safety zone, we checked off the objectives," she argued, her protest bringing the attention of her other teammates and the proctor, who had been waiting at the finish line and proclaimed them successful.

"You mean your team made it," he corrected. "You didn't." With a sharp jab he pointed to the red dot on her armor. "Therefore you failed."

She looked down at the red powder with a frown. She brushed at the marking making it fade slight before looking back up at him. "But it's a team trial. My sacrifice was made for the benefit of the mission. Not only did we accomplish our task but we did it in minimal time."

"That's not the point of the mission though, is it?" He pressed. "The point of the exercise is to problem solve and find solutions. Sacrificing yourself may have been for the good of the mission but it was lazy and sloppy."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's bullshit!" She cursed. "The other teams with casualties didn't fail. We carried out all the objectives with only one causality."

"Watch your language when speaking to a superior officer," he admonished, causing her brow to twitch with annoyance. He hardly ever abused his rank in an argument, but at this moment he did not care. "Not all casualties can be prevented but yours could have. You were reckless and irresponsible. Therefore you failed."

"You can't do that!" She shouted back, causing those surrounding them to watch with wide eyes as a recruit yelled at an officer. "Had it been anyone else who had taken my place you would not have failed them. You're just singling me out because you can't separate a worthy sacrifice and your own personal feelings from one another!"

The moment the words left her lips his eyes widened and darted around at the onlookers. While he steeled his face and hid an emotional expression, his cheeks still held a redness, exposing the lack of full composure he had. He took a step forward.

"Thank you for pointing that out to me," he hissed. "As I do not wish to grade you unfairly..." he paused as he looked behind her to where her teammates were standing and watching the argument. "Congratulations, you all failed for abandoning a comrade," he announced then looked back down to her. "Happy?" he questioned with a raised brow. "Now everyone is equally graded."

Sylvi gave him a hardened stare but did not dare open her mouth again. She had already overstepped by bringing up his personal feelings. She had successfully embarrassed him and while it felt good, now it was her teammates who were being punished because of her careless words. She would not make things worse for them. Especially as she heard the groans and mumbles behind her.

When he was convinced she had no retort, he turned away and stomped off. Sylvi watched his retreating back, her green eyes burning holes through his captain's cloak. When he had gone far enough, she turned back to her team, a tinge of guilt coming to her when she saw the combinations of down cast looks, resentment, and disappointment in their eyes.

"I will talk to him, I will make it right," she promised.

* * *

Tarbin slouched over the makeshift table in his tent. He fully committed to his self pity when he let his head fall forward as he let out a tired and frustrated groan. He had taken things too far. Sylvi had been right, he had run the scenario several times in his head and yes, the method they chose was certainly one of the better outcomes given the circumstances. And again, much to his shame, had someone else been in her place, he would not have batted an eye.

He let out another groan and lifted his head to massage his temples. It was just a lot more difficult to ignore such biased feelings. And it had only gotten worse when she had brought up his personal feelings. It had not been a private conversation between just them, but it had been in front of others as well.

Over the years they had seemed to have come to a mutual agreement to never acknowledge their feelings for one another. At least that is what he thought. He had brought up a few references that hinted towards him being awake during her confession back at the beginning of his service in the army. His attempts had never been meant as a perusal, but more to make it clear enough to her, that he knew of her feelings. Since she had never spoken of his own, half confession before he had left for his final, he had assumed things were mutual. But the more he thought about it, the more he questioned why. Why were they not talking about it? What exactly were they waiting for?

He heard the rustle of his tent as someone entered and he opened his eyes to see who had come in. He was both, surprised and not, to find Sylvi standing at the door. Her hands were gripped together as she fidgeted. There was a long, drawn out silence as they each just stared at each other.

"Sorry," she finally said quietly. "I spoke out of anger earlier. While I let things get...personal, I ask that you do not penalize the rest of my team for my insubordination."

With such softness in her voice, he could not summon the anger he had felt earlier. He let his shoulders sag even lower.

"I think we both have things to apologize for," he said, letting his hands drop to the table as he leaned back into his chair. He gave her a tired look. "Perhaps I was a bit hasty with my grading. I will revoke my initial failure, you can tell your teammates there will be no penalty."

She nodded then took a step forward. "And myself? Will I still be failing?" She asked timidly, looking at him warily.

He looked at her for a long while, drumming his fingers across the grainy wood. "You will pass as well," he said, finally causing her to release the breath that she had been holding, in a sigh of relief. "However I do not redact what I said before. You were careless and did not put thought into your actions. You treated it as a game and not a real scenario. While your teammates may have gotten through, you did not. Today you may suffer a bruise that will linger for a week or so, but in the future, that will not be the result." He leaned forward. "You would be dead, Sylvi. If this was the real world, a real enemy, you would not wake up with bruises. You would not wake up at all."

"I was saving my comrades," she defended.

"And you would have died," he emphasized, trying to not let his frustration show. He needed to remain rational, otherwise they would just have a repeat of their earlier conversation.

"We all could have died," she countered sagely. "One life is certainly worth trading for ten."

"THAT'S NOT THEー" he cut himself off as his raised tone caught him off guard. Taking in a deep breath he calmed himself. "And what about the lives you leave behind?" he asked more calmly. "Are they not of any worth? Your family? Your friends?..."

"You?" Sylvi finished his unspoken listing as if she had read his mind. He swallowed thickly, but nodded his head, unable to deny that he wanted to be a part of that list more than anything. Sylvi moved around the table and leaned against it when she was at his side, facing him. Gently, she lifted a slightly shaking hand and put it against his cheek. "They will accept my sacrifice and move on. And I will watch over them until their dying days, when they join me in the halls of Mahal."

Tarbin's heart beat wildly within his chest, unsure if the cause was from her touch or the thought of her traveling to the halls beyond this life. It twisted his gut and his mouth went dry.

"Promise me," he requested, when he managed to speak. "Promise me that you will just stay put and out of danger."

She gave him a soft smile and started to withdraw her hand, but he caught it. "I'm sorry Tarbin, but you know I can't do that."

Holding onto her hand, Tarbin bowed his head as he looked down at her hand. He turned it so that her palm was face up and he traced the creased lines of her hand with his thumb. Then he surprised them both by lifting it, and placing a gentle press of his lips in the center of her palm.

He looked up at her after the linger kiss to find her mouth parted as a rosy color was spread across her face. "Then promise me that you will do all that you can, to stay alive." To that, she mutely nodded as her green eyes were unable to look away from the intensity of the dark abyss of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had this sitting in my docs for awhile with just the last part to add, hope you like it and thanks for reading! Stay safe and take care!


End file.
